Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Sickies

"I cannot go to school todaySaid little Peggy Ann McKayI have the measles and the mumpsA gash, a rash and thirteen bumps...............What? What's that? What's that you say?You say today is... Saturday?Goodbye, I'm going out to play."partial quotation from the poem, "SICK"available in full in the book,Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein

Hubby is home from work today. He is having some follow-up blood work done from when he was sick a few weeks back... I want to know, WTF is it with men when they're sick?They go from being strong, generally-self-sufficient, adults to... well... pathetic. A glass of water becomes too difficult to navigate. And somehow, whether they are suffering from a stomach flu or an ingrown toenail they manage to get the sniffles and watery eyes, making them look all the more pitiful as they gaze up at you with their new-found-puppy-dog-eyes and ask you to close the curtains so they can die peacefully in their deathbed because they have 'no energy'. If they could talk you into bringing them a bedpan they would. Groans and other poor-me noises emanate from wherever they are lying prone to let all others in the house know that they are feeling absolutely miserable, and if they survive, it will be a miracle worthy of the Pope. "Pray for me in my time of hideous suffering", the whimpers seem to say...Now, I'm not heartless. Really, I'm not. I understand wanting some comfort, compassion, and maybe even a little 'babying' when you're sick, but men have it down to an art form that would be the envy of Michaelangelo. Almost like they had graduate-level-classes on how to play it up. And hey guys, we want some of that 'babying' too! Where did you come up with having the monopoly on playing the sick card?Because, when women get sick--especially if those women are mothers-- it is an entirely different story. They still have to get out of bed and change diapers, make their own coffee, and do some measure of housework. They can go through an entire box of tissues in 12 hours, cough so hard they throw-out their backs, puke up everything they ever ate in their entire lives as well as their shoes, and have dark circles under their eyes that extend down to their bra, and they will get no extra compassionate anything. They're lucky if their partner actually 'sees' them and makes a comment like, "Wow babe, you look like shit!" Which makes us think something along the lines of, "Gee thanks! You heartless, thoughtless jerk." We may get out of doing laundry or not get some sort of comment about us going back to bed. If we're really lucky, they'll turn down the TV so our heads don't explode from the bass as something gets blown up in the action movie they are watching. If they order take-out and spare us from cooking dinner, it will very likely be more from not wanting to get whatever you've got, than actually trying to help your sick-ass out. I'm sure not all men are this bone-headed when their women are sick or as whiney when they are the sick one. I'm sure there are some men who are compassionate and considerate of their ill partners, or don't expect to be waited on hand and foot with the dedication of a prisoner-servant to the sadistic dictator in a militia state when they're laid-up... I just know that I've never been married to one.

MOM! Shut Up!

I am guided by my relationship with God...and I cuss, smoke, and drink on occasion. I am common sense and crazy. I can tell you what's wrong with American society, but can't get my own housework done. Yin. Yang. I like to think of it as well-rounded balance.